


Regret

by attfna



Series: Could This Be The End [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Baltimore, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Riot - Freeform, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23047720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attfna/pseuds/attfna
Summary: The riot from Andrew's POV. The first chapter can be a stand alone but I might add additional chapters that diverge from the canon.~*~But Andrew did remember. He remembered everything and wanted nothing more than to carve the memories out with one of his knives and bury them six feet in the ground with Neil’s corpse. To burn them until they were ash and carried off in the wind. He wanted to go back to earlier in the evening, to understand the words Neil had spoken, to hold on. To tell him to fuck off instead of letting him out of their deal.For the first time in his life, Andrew felt regret.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Could This Be The End [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880110
Comments: 10
Kudos: 249





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to Nora, I own nothing.

Fear and anger were almost welcome emotions compared to the chilling confusion of Neil’s words back in the locker room. Words that sent a shiver down his spine and had his mind looping around itself. Words that had his chest clenching as he tried to muddle through the surface of them to find the deeper meaning he knew was there. A few seconds more and might have asked, but he’d hesitated, and now they were being shuffled along the black pavement between rows of furious, shouting fans. 

At first the tension created by the impending explosion of post-game chaos was welcome. Andrew was accustomed to fear, to fury. It was familiar. A good distraction from his thoughts. It was welcome. Almost.

A bottle sailed over the heads of the first row of rabid fans and Andrew just saw it from the corner of his eye when it hit Aaron’s elbow with a hollow ‘ thunk ’. Aaron swore and the twins sent matching glares towards the crowd, growing larger by the second. 

Andrew turned back to glance at Neil, who was being bodily shielded by the security guard and the tension in his shoulders suggested he wasn’t enjoying it, but at least he seemed safe. Andrew wanted nothing more than to shove the rent-a-cop out of the way and  cocoon Neil with his own limbs to keep him safe, but Neil wasn’t his responsibility anymore. He’d given in, let him go. Instead he turned back to his family, his blood, and the man who still wanted his protection. Kevin drew in his racquet and bag and scanned the crowd on both sides with keen, green eyes. Nicky’s expression had gone from annoyed  to nervous in a matter of seconds when a second object came flying, again from the Bearcats fans: a shoe. It sailed over the Foxes towards their own fans on the other side, who hurled a beer bottle over them in retaliation. 

Falling back a few paces, Andrew fell in beside Kevin, grabbing the strap at the base of his bag on his back and hurried him forwards. Ahead of him he had eyes on Nicky and Aaron, and further ahead, Neil, still tucked into the security guards side as he looked around cautiously. 

They were halfway back to the bus when all hell broke loose. One of the Bearcat fans hurled a cooler overhead. Dan ducked just in  time but it sailed another few feet and collided with the shins of an orange clad fan, knocking them over. The  mans friends pulled him up and there was a moment when everything seemed to go quiet. 

Then objects were flying, fans were breaking through the line of athletes and an overwhelming roar of approaching violence echoed in Andrew’s ears. He was separated from Nicky and Aaron, lost sight of Neil entirely, barely able to keep hold of Kevin. Still he pressed forward. The bus was in site and sirens wailed, blue lights approaching from the south entrance. Bodies crashed into them and he dropped his racquet to shove them away, Kevin doing his best to do the same but holding his own racquet out horizontally to keep the rioters at bay. One man reached over him, going for Kevin's head and Andrew let go long enough to land a punch to the man's gut, satisfied by the cracking sound. He doubled over and Andrew kneed him in the face for good measure, eyes and hands finding Kevin again before the man even hit the ground. He could hear Nicky and Aaron shouting ahead of him. Through the throng of bodies he saw Nicky pushing Aaron ahead, dodging as much as he could, his bag constantly knocked around as people ran into them. They had discarded their racquets as well. Nicky took a glancing blow to the shoulder but rolled out of it and Aaron kicked the attacker in the groin. They were taking care of each other. 

Behind them Allison shrieked  indignantly and Andrew turned slightly to look. She took a punch to the eye and doubled only for only a second. When she recovered, she threw herself at the man who had hit her, hand hitting his throat, knee hitting his ribs. His friend moved to grab her, yanking her off with a strong hand around her bicep but then Renee was there. She dropped the guy in less than five seconds but when she turned to check on Allison again, she too took a set of knuckles to the face. She fought. They all fought. Behind them Matt was engaged in a brawl with Dan at his back, and further back  Wymack had his arms wrapped around Abby, pulling her along as she tried to keep hold of her med bag. 

The cops finally arrived, breaking up what they could but most scattered when the pepper spray came out and the k-9 unit released half a dozen barking dogs into the crowd. 

It had only been minutes, really, but seemed like hours until they made it on the bus. A few Bearcats fans lingered long enough to throw food, beer cans and condiments at the side of the vehicle but the doors kept them safe behind metal walls. 

Andrew scanned the men at the back of the bus. Aaron and Nicky had a few bruises between them and were breathing heavily but otherwise seemed unharmed. Kevin had no visible injuries and looked on the verge of a panic attack. His gaze was fixed towards the front of the bus where Abby tended to the more wounded Foxes. Seconds later an ambulance pulled up alongside the bus with a police escort. Abby hustled Matt, Allison and Renee off the bus towards the ambulance to get checked out and Andrew was only  vaguely aware of  Wymack shouting at them, asking if they were hurt. 

He turned on the spot, a full three-sixty. Then he crawled onto the bus seat, pressed his hands to the glass and looked out. He could see the upperclassman below sitting on the back of the ambulance, Abby fussing over them. 

“Coach....” His head swiveled  forward and his attention snapped to  Wymack . “Where is Neil?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t need one. The way  Wymacks eyes had dilated in fear had been enough. He ran down the bus aisle, pushed the coach to the side and stumbled down the stairs onto the pavement. He ignored  Wymacks shouts and Matt’s questions as he took off in the direction they’d come. The crowd was mostly dispersed, only a few lingering fans sifting through the rubble, probably looking for anything valuable to scalp. He ran the line, there and back, retracing their steps. The last images of he could conjure of Neil in his infuriating eidetic memory were of the man being shielded by the security guard, their feet, heading north as the riot broke loose. He tore off in that direction. 

At the edge of the parking lot there were a group of three men stumbling, likely drunk. One was  kneeling down over a lump of something indistinguishable in the low light. As he approached, he could see it was a bag: worn and bright orange. One of the men standing was holding an  Exy racquet, leaning on it like a crutch.

Andrew didn’t speak when he approached. Instead the second his eyes found the ‘N. Josten’, patched on the side of the bag, he snatched the racquet from the first man. The guy stumbled into his friend and they both collapsed. The third man reached for Andrew who drove his fist into the  man's jaw without hesitation. The other two scurried upright and either the look on his face or the heavy racquet held upwards, ready to take a swing, deterred them from retaliating and they tripped over each other to get away. Once they were at a safe distance Andrew knelt over the bag. Neil’s belongings were strewn across the ground but otherwise all seemed to be there. He went through them one by one, eyes flickering up every few seconds as if expecting the striker to saunter up, bleeding and grinning, some infuriating quip on his tongue. He didn’t and Andrew shoved each item back in the bag, hesitating on the still sweat soaked bandana Neil always wore under his helmet. He glared at the rag as if it had personally offended him and resisted the urge to pocket it. 

The zipper stuck a little when he tried to zip it and the bag rotated as he stood. Getting it on his shoulder, his gaze was drawn to the small silver object in the mesh pocket on the end of the bag. Andrew tucked the racquet under his arm and reached for the phone. It was charged, surprisingly. Andrew hadn’t even thought to try calling him since his phone was nearly always dead, despite their best efforts to make Neil use it. 

But he always carried it, Andrew thought. Just like his racquet. He vividly recalled Neil putting his racquet on his lap on their way to the  Hemmicks months earlier and then bringing it inside instead of parting with it. He’d complained endlessly about the cost and having to get another after it had been used as a murder weapon. He wouldn’t part with it willingly. Yet here it lay, on the ground along with the rest of his belongings. 

Something else glinted from the side pocket and Andrew reached inside to fish that out too. Neil’s key ring. Keys to court. For once Andrew didn’t think Neil had run. The thought hadn’t occurred at all since he’d noticed Neil’s absence. But he was missing. Something was wrong.

He walked as fast as he could back towards the bus, pocketing the keys and flipping open the phone. There was a phone call from an area code he didn’t recognize in the call history, only minutes before the riot had begun. It was less than a  minute but no one should know that number besides the Foxes and they were all with Neil the whole night. Andrew jammed his thumb into the buttons to pull up the text log, staring down at the perplexing ‘0’. He stopped walking, brows knitting together as he looked down at the device. 0? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

The text was from a different number with the same area code. Scrolling through none of the other messages looked suspicious, all from the Foxes or Wymack. 

The bus was in sight again, the ambulance still parked alongside but the cop car was gone now. Andrew continued fiddling with the phone while he walked. He opened the ‘deleted’ box to look at old text messages and froze again, this time only a few feet from the back of the bus. It only held the last thirty days of deleted  messages but it was there, clear as day. A countdown. 29, 28, 27.....all from different numbers but with the same area code. The ‘0’ had been sent that morning. 

How could Neil have kept this from him?

The riot was  over but Andrew felt like he’d just been punched in the lung, air leaving his chest and refusing to return. Memories flooded his mind like poison...Neil asking to be let go, himself – refusing, Neil asking again, only that morning. 

_ ‘I want to go back for you.” _

_ ‘You wouldn’t. You’re a different kind of suicidal.’ _

_ ‘You’re bait. You’re the martyr no one asked for or wanted.’ _

_ ‘Only one way to be sure, right?’ _

Andrew snapped the phone closed and clenched it so hard his knuckles went white. 

That fucking idiot. Andrew was going to kill him if he was still alive. 

And for a gut wrenching, heart stopping moment, Andrew knew he wasn’t.  _ ‘Thank you. You were amazing.’ _

The words  returned again , ringing in his ears with all the force of a wrecking ball and he doubled over, resisting the urge to dry heave on the concrete. Because now he understood with perfect clarity what those words meant. The meaning he’d failed to find. It was  _ goodbye. _

_ Fuck _ . How could he not have realized? Andrew had always been able to read people. Read their lies, their surprising, infrequent truths. Read Neil, like an open goddamn book. He’d seen the panic in his eyes. The longing, the fear, the resolve. He’d seen the sad smile and the tense set of his shoulders, slightly hunched like a man being marched away to the gallows. He had known this was coming and hadn’t told a soul. Hadn’t told  _ Andrew _ . 

When he stood, Andrew reached out and jammed his left hand into the side of the bus so loudly the upperclassman jumped several feet away, finally noticing his presence. They all called his name at once and then Abby was moving towards him, hands outstretched. She stopped at the expression on his face and he pushed past her towards the bus. Andrew pocketed the phone but dropped the bag and the racquet on the floor in front of  Wymack who was hunched over in the driver's seat, his own phone to his ear. 

Wymack hung up the phone and stood, watching him walked towards the back of the bus. 

“Did you find him? I called the hospital and they don’t have him. Neither do the cops.”

“He’s gone,” said Andrew, forcing his features back to their natural apathy and keeping his voice as even as possible. 

_ He wanted this. He wanted me to let him go and these are the consequences. I told him he would regret it. I  _ told _ him. _

“Gone?” said  Wymack , glancing down at the bag and then back up. “The fuck  do you mean gone?”

“I mean the opposite of ‘here’ coach. Surely you understand the meaning of the word?” he sounded bored now, a practiced tone and his mask finally replaced. 

He didn’t care that Aaron was watching him with open suspicion or Nicky was staring at him, worried and chewing his lip until it bled. He didn’t care that Kevin still looked terrified or their coach seemed ready to throttle him. He’d done his job. He got his family and Kevin back in once piece. Nothing else wasn’t his problem.  _ Nothing. _

“Andrew...what do you mean he’s gone? Where did he go?” asked Nicky, hesitantly, half turned in his seat. 

Andrew dropped onto the cushion in the very back and leaned against the cold metal, cheek against the glass. He winced at the pressure, the throbbing of his eye finally catching up to him. They asked a few more times but after a couple minutes of Andrew’s resolute silence, gave up as reality began to sink in. 

At the front of the bus  Wymack swore loudly and put his phone back to his ear. Nicky moved to the front of the bus to talk with him, continuing their speculation into what happened to their striker. Kevin dropped his head against the back of the seat and Aaron sat back down, the last expression Andrew witnessing on his twins face one of wary confusion. 

Fifteen minutes passed and Andrew tried to tamp down the thoughts in his head. He wanted to leave. To go home. To drown himself in booze. He wanted a  cigarette but his pack had somehow fallen from his pockets as he scoured the campus looking for their idiot striker. He wanted anything but to hear Neil’s voice in his head, see blue eyes when he closed his own, remember the feel of auburn hair in his hands. 

The upperclassman  were quiet when they boarded the bus and the ambulance drove off; Andrew watched it disappear behind the stadium. He closed his eyes, hoping that pretending to be asleep might give him a few minutes of peace. He could hear them talking at the head of the bus and tried his best to tune it out. 

‘Neil’s missing.’

‘What do you mean ‘Neil’s missing’’?

‘I mean Andrew found his shit and Neil wasn’t with it.’

‘ So where is he?!’

‘We don’t know.’

‘What do you mean you don’t know?!’

‘I mean I don’t fucking know!’

Another ten minutes, more phone calls, more wild speculation. 

“Alright...I’m calling the cops. We have to report him missing,” said Wymack, standing on the steps of the bus with the door open, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other. 

“No!”

Andrew’s eyes flew open at the sound of Kevin’s voice, Kevin who had been silent since the riot began. 

“No? What do you mean ‘no’? Kevin, he’s missing,” said the older man, tossing his cigarette to the side.

Kevin  fidgeted in his seat, back to the wall now and Andrew sat up a little straighter to listen. 

“I just mean...Neil wouldn’t want the cops involved. Whatever happened he wouldn’t want that.”

“Since when are you so concerned with what he  _ wants _ ?” spat Dan. 

“I know him better than you think...” said Kevin, though there was no bite to his voice. He just sounded tired and hollow. 

“You realize not finding Neil, means not being able to keep playing this season, right?” asked Matt.

The  backliner looked disheveled and worried and had clearly only used the argument to appeal to Kevin’s selfish nature. And for once, Kevin looked away. 

“I know what it means,” he sighed quietly. 

Curiosity woke in Andrew, a feeling he’d gotten so good at ignoring. He could tell himself Neil didn’t matter all he wanted but he wanted to  _ know _ .  _ Needed  _ to know. Because Kevin sure as fuck knew something. There was no way he would write off-spring championships this easily, not after the time and effort he’d put into Neil’s training. 

Andrew stood and the rest of the Foxes went silent, tracked his movements, watched his hands. He moved until he was standing in front of Kevin’s seat, one hand sliding along the back cushion as he leaned in. A smile curled on his  lips, one he hadn’t felt there since he’d gotten sober. The monster inside begged for release. It wanted answers and Andrew wanted to give it what it wanted. 

“Kevin Day. And what a  _ day  _ it’s been. Would you like to tell me why you’re suddenly so disinterested in the man you’ve been taking to court nearly every night for months? I hope you finally realize this sport is all but a waste of time, but knowing you, I think it’s something different. Care to share?”

“It’s nothing. There just isn’t any point in looking for him.”

Kevin’s eyes bounced from teammate to teammate and he added as an afterthought, “You knew he was a runaway.”

The striker shifted uncomfortably under Andrew’s scrutiny but there was nowhere for him to go. He was trapped. Andrew pulled the phone in his pocket and tossed it to Kevin, open to the last text he’d received, the unknown number and the glaring ‘0’. Kevin’s eyes flared and his hand shook as he held the phone. When he looked up again Andrew knew he was right.

“You and I both know he hasn’t run off so why don’t you tell me what you know,” Andrew leaned in and pulled one of the knives from his armbands and twirled it. “Because if you  don’t, I’ll assume you don’t need that tongue of yours and just cut it out...”

The threat was so quiet only Nicky and Aaron heard but he could sense the upperclassman and  Wymack inching closer, recognizing the tension in the air. He twirled the knife once more and lodged it in the top of the chair. Kevin dropped the phone.

“I swear I don’t know where he is...”

Andrew’s face contorted for only a second to blind rage but by the time he had his hands around Kevin’s throat his expression was placid once more. Bored even, as if choking the life out of Kevin was the most uninteresting thing to happen all week. He didn’t bother with more threats, the grip he had wouldn’t have allowed Kevin to speak anyways. His ears were  ringing and fingers were hot around Kevin’s flesh and he was aware of the hands on him, pulling, trying to get him to let go. Matt got an arm around his middle but when he tried to haul him backwards Kevin went with them and yelped in pain, a strangled sound as his own hands clamped over Andrew’s wrists and eyes began to bulge inside flushed red skin. Finally, Renee’s  well-placed punch to his kidney made his grip loosen enough that  Wymack was able to yank one of his hands free. Matt grabbed the other and the three pulled him backwards. He  struggled, eyes bright with fury even though his lips were set in a straight line. The coach pulled Andrew into his lap, arms around his middle, locking his arms in place. Renee was in front of him, hands hovering near his head. 

“Andrew?” she said, calmly. “Andrew can you hear me?”

He sucked in a deep breath and kept his eyes on Kevin, coughing and sputtering as Matt thumped him on the back to encourage him to breathe. Abby was making her way up the aisle to check on him. 

“Coach, let go of me.”

“Not until you promise you won’t kill anyone on this team.”

“I won’t,” he said automatically, not entirely meaning it. 

“You promised to protect him,” said Renee, reminding him of his deal. “You promised to protect Kevin.”

Andrew cut his eyes at her and glared but she seemed satisfied with his attention and nodded at Wymack. The coach hesitantly let go of him and Andrew pushed himself to a stand. Renee and Matt both kept themselves in the aisle between the two and Andrew leaned to the side to look at Kevin who was still hunched over. 

“Talk. I won’t ask again.”

“ _ Andrew... _ ” warned  Wymack . 

“Talk,” he said again. 

With another cough Kevin looked up, hand at his own throat as he massaged the red marks blooming on his skin. His eyes darted around to each of his teammates who were all watching him intently now. They might not have approved of strangulation as a method of communication, but It seemed to have been effective. They knew he wasn’t telling them something. 

Kevin reached up and Matt handed him a water bottle. He took several sips and tried to catch his breath. Andrew shifted impatiently and Kevin pressed himself against the wall, sitting up straight once more. 

“His name...isn’t Neil. It’s Nathaniel Wesninski.”

Most of the Foxes exchanged confused looks but  Wymack’s brow furrowed. “Wesninski? Why does that sound familiar?”

“Because his father is Nathan  Wesninski . He’s known as the butcher of Baltimore. He’s works for the  Moriyamas . Wetworks.”

Dan brought a hand to her lips and stared, Nicky choked out something that sounded like a sob and even Aaron stood to listen. 

Kevin took another shaky breath. “I met Neil....Nathaniel when we were kids. He was supposed to be sold to Tetsuji, a sort of peace offering between the families. Nathaniel didn’t know at the  time but his father is the right hand man of Lord Moriyama. We played together at Evermore. If Nathaniel passed his  try-out, he would become a Raven.”

“Obviously he didn’t...” said Allison, leaning over the back of one of the seats. 

Kevin shook his head. “He never finished the tryout. His mother took him that night and disappeared. They were on the run for eight years. Apparently, Nathan caught up to them a couple years ago. They escaped but Nathaniel’s mother died a little while later of her injuries. That is why he ended up in Millport. He didn't have anywhere else to go.”

“Not to derail story-time, but what the fuck does this have to do with Neil going missing right now?” asked Wymack.

“Riko recognized him. Or he dug until he found the information he needed. I didn’t recognize Nathaniel at first but Riko found out who he was after the Kathy show and  outted him to me at the fall banquet. Riko thought I knew. His father went to jail for a  while but he still has people everywhere and now Riko is trying to blow his cover. Someone probably found him. Nathaniel.....he never thought he would make it through the year. He knew they would catch up to him. He just wanted to get through spring championships before...”

Kevin dropped into his seat, head smacking the glass behind him as the others stared on in silence. 

“All this time ....he was....oh god...” tears were falling down Nicky’s cheeks when he sat back down and he did nothing to wipe them away. 

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” said Dan between gritted teeth. “This isn’t fair. We can’t just roll over and let someone fucking...I don’t know, kidnap him?!”

“Life isn’t fair. Neil knew that,” said Aaron, finally speaking. 

Matt turned to glare at him. 

“That doesn’t mean we’re giving up.  Coach, make the call,” Kevin shifted and Matt turned and jammed a finger in his direction. “Kevin so help me, if you say another word I will let Andrew finish what he started.”

Andrew stood, statue still, watching the scene unfold. Watching his teammates break over the new knowledge, watching their coach and Abby get on their phones simultaneously to start making calls. He watched them share their hope and resolve and sympathy and wanted nothing more than to drop through the floor and disappear. He’d hoped knowing would make it easier. Easier to find peace about Neil’s absence, easier to not regret. Neil had given him only pieces and now everything suddenly made sense. He hated it. He hated Neil. He hated Kevin for keeping this from him. And he hated himself for caring about it at all. 

He shoved past Renee and waded down the aisle.  Wymack was on the stairs again and blocked his path but Andrew merely held out a hand.  Wymack looked down at the appendage, confused, and back up. Instead of speaking Andrew just shoved his hand in his  coaches pocket and swiped the cigarettes and lighter, ducking under the taller  mans arm.  Wymack let him go and he leaned against the bus, lighting the rolled stick of tobacco and sticking it between his lips. 

_ So, _ _ it’s over then.  _

The gut feeling that had been building all night had finally cemented in his insides. If he was taken by who Kevin said he was taken by, then he was dead. There was no point looking, no point wondering, no point remembering. But Andrew did remember. He remembered everything and wanted nothing more than to carve the memories out with one of his knives and bury them six feet in the ground with Neil’s corpse. To burn them until they were ash and carried off in the wind. He wanted to go back to earlier in the evening, to understand the words Neil had spoken, to hold on. To tell him to fuck off instead of letting him out of their deal. 

For the first time in his life, Andrew felt regret.


End file.
